


A Room Full of Ghosts

by Arkangelas



Category: Friends, Quantum Leap, Sherlock (TV), Star Trek, Supernatural, The Secret Life of Marilyn, The Walking Dead (TV), Universal Soldier (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkangelas/pseuds/Arkangelas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future has brought forth a nostalgic government program, allowing for the 'reactivation' of deceased celebrities and public figures from the 20th century. So long as the given guidelines are adhered to, the possibilities are limitless, as proven by a group of young adults who were all lucky enough to receive program invitations. While many reactivated figures choose to move on from their petitioners in an attempt to continue on from their past lives, some choose to stay, forging unforeseen relationships and ironclad bonds through second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Room Full of Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep these three important tidbits of information in mind if you choose to read this [sort-of] installment:
> 
> 1\. It's absolute trash. Seriously.
> 
> 2\. I'm currently writing a novel, so this work ('A Room Full of Ghosts') is essentially my sidepiece (lol) that I work on when I'm suffering horrendous writer's block while trying to work on my other, original piece. Not that I plan to neglect this work if it picks up (lolx20) or anything, but just know that it's not exactly receiving my full attention. If it's laden with errors of any kind, it's likely because I was writing the installment late at night when I couldn't sleep.
> 
> 3\. There'll likely be more installments that consist of backstory; the origin of the reactivation program, other global occurrences involving various other figures, rules and exceptions that apply to the reactivation/petitioning practice, etc. This is basically just my attempt at starting in the middle [of the beginning] of the story, so it's a bit confusing, if anything (to say the least). Honestly, I think I just started writing, I enjoyed the work more than I realized, and therefore I thought it best to post it - as if maybe it would motivate me to keep up on it.
> 
> On a separate side-note, though, the major public figures in this piece are drawn from a few, semi-obscure episodes of older shows, movies, etc., so I guess that's what sets it apart from an absolute original piece. It is fan-fiction intended, but it's also a bit of a reach.  
> SO, if anyone thinks this doesn't qualify as something that should be on this site, feel free to chew me out. I've never used this site before, to do anything other than appreciate the spectacular works I've so far come across and read on here, so I don't know what I'm doing (at all). Fan-fiction fetus, I am, I am.
> 
> * IMPORTANT: For the sake of this piece, consider Jean-Claude Van Damme a recently deceased character. Essentially, this takes place at a time shortly following his murder. *
> 
> * Age-wise, envision each public figure as existing in their prime states; i.e. Marilyn in her early thirties, Van Damme from 'Bloodsport', etc. Greater detail will be gone into (regarding age) later on, if this work is continued. *

“So, wait, then who all did they bring back?” she asked, gesturing to the rest of your group at the far end of the room.

You shifted in your stilettos, recounting all of the A-listers who were seated at the bar with an almost painful nonchalance. The list of names sounded ridiculous enough in your head; to say it aloud seemed absolute ludicrous, regardless of how many times you'd done so in the past. With a smirk, you rattled off each of your friends' choices, accompanied by a bit of detail.

“Well, Aidan over there,” you gestured to the robust quarterback walking a couple of beers back to the booth, “he brought back Louis Armstrong. _Huge_ jazz fan. They seem to get on pretty well.” You scanned the rest of the booth, eying the pair of brunettes chatting each other up in the corner.

“Ex picked Salinger – he covets his first edition copy of 'The Catcher in the Rye', so when he caught wind of the program, he jumped at the chance. He was pretty shocked when his presentation was accepted, even though Jerome is completely harmless. He's basically a puppy,” you quipped, smiling as you watched your friend and his favorite author lean into each other with animated faces while they excitedly discussed something you were sure would bore you senseless.

“Who's the angry looking girl in the middle?” Cece asked, jerking her chin toward your more aggressive friend.

“That's Ruby.” You noticed her sketching on a napkin before trading it back and forth a few times with the man seated across from her. No doubt it was another hypothetical invention.

“She got ahold of Thomas Edison. Not exactly a shock, with her engineering major and all. Initially she wanted Malcolm X or Al Capone, for the sheer drama of it all. She saw the program as an opportunity to fuck with society right off the bat, but they got rejected on a count of being controversial figures, so she settled on a mentor instead.” You continued to watch the two of them intently discuss the scribbles on the napkin, pantomiming what were most likely the paths of potential electrical circuits. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Cece's pale, twisted face.

“Uhhh..?”

“Mhmm. Emma got her hooks in pretty quickly after everything was up and running,” you stated proudly, admiring her success as she leaned over the group's table, surrounded by the daunting arm of J.F.K.. A pair of iconic Ray Bans clung to his undone collar while the two of them locked eyes on the beautiful girl in front of them, completely engrossed in whatever story she was telling.

“Who are they talking to?” Cece continued, stretching her neck in an attempt to match a face to the honey blonde hair.

“Grayson. She's the earliest invitation I personally know,” you remarked, subtly puffing your chest again. “She busted her ass on her presentation. She went three and a half hours over the mark when she went before the board. Delved incredibly deep when it came to medical support in terms of mental health issues in today's world, and it worked tenfold.”

Before you could continue to brag about Grayson's success, you were met with a breathy greeting from the siren making her way from the opposite end of the tavern.

“You're here – finally!” she cooed, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before pecking you on the cheek. You matched her greeting before turning to Cece for introductions, only to stop and chuckle quietly at the poor girl's furious blushing. Looking as though she were about to break into hysterics, you gave her a subtle pinch to the arm, snapping her back to reality as best you could. To be fair, an absolutely outlandish reality it was.

“Cece, this is Marilyn. Marilyn, Cece.”

Marilyn smiled kindly, taking both of Cece's hands in her own.

“It's nice to meet you, Cece. Please, join us,” she offered, holding onto Cece's hands until last minute, backing away toward the booth. With her typical easy grace, she slid into the booth and hooked an arm snuggly around Grayson's bicep. Grayson gave Marilyn's hand a playful squeeze, turning back to listen to the story John just've recently started.

You turned to Cece, raising my brows while you waited for a final reaction from her. She blinked wildly for a moment, clearly running over the list of names you'd just announced in her head all over again.

After a bit of eye-narrowing and finger-tugging, she opened her mouth in question while keeping her eyes locked on the booth of idols.

“Marilyn and Kennedy..?”

I smirked again, pulling her toward the bar to order a couple of drinks while I quickly explained.

“Strictly rumor. They were both really open about it. They actually had a laugh, believe it or not.”

Cece lifted a skeptical brow, turning back to look at the pair while I tapped the man behind the bar for a couple of White Russians.

“I'd probably think they were lying if we'd asked them about it up front, but they actually brought it up themselves. Mentioned how they were both pushed by their subsequent parties to boost the rumor of an affair for publicity purposes,” you said, watching her brow slowly lower itself. “They get along really well, but they don't seem to really vibe off of each other. At least not like people speculated, you know? I think he's a little too blinded by Emma's light to notice a damn soul other than hers.”

“That's your best friend?”

“Mhmm. She got in pretty early too, not far behind Grayson, I think. She didn't really plan on anything happening – I think she just assumed he'd move on pretty quickly like a lot of the bigger names do - but he took to her instantly, so,” you trailed off, laughing to yourself while the bartender slid you your drinks and a bill. You scribbled your signature, handing Cece her vodka. “Seriously. And she seems more enamored with him than I've ever seen her, not that she'd ever admit it.” You turned to look toward her, catching her eye before she animatedly mouthed for you to hurry up and come join the conversation. Shrinking back in exaggerated shame, you gave Cece another nudge and led her toward the corner of the room.

Marilyn had a hand propped up beneath her chin while the other still clutched onto Grayson, both intently listening to John's dialogue. You did you best to stifle yet another chuckle, noticing how Cece's widened eyes couldn't settle on one famous target in front of her while she slowly slid onto the leather cushion beside Ruby. She arranged herself fairly quickly, going around the table to reintroduce herself to the group and excitedly acquaint with each symbol before quieting herself in anticipation of another story. With a sudden turn, she gazed at you intently, completely perplexed.

“Wait, so did you reactivate someone, or..?” she asked, trailing off in hopes that she didn't offend you, seeing as how you were the only one who didn't appear to be paired off.

The booth chuckled in unison, a train of side eyes making its way around the table while you clenched your jaw in irritation. Jerome and Ex made faces at each other while Emma gave John a shaming pinch in your honor, forcing him to straighten his face while she smiled at you sympathetically. You could tell she was holding in a giggle of her own, causing you to crack a smile in defeat. You sighed heavily, taking a swig of your drink.

“Yeah, no, I made a pitch and got accepted.”

“Who?” Cece begged, creasing her forehead at the awkward behavior of the rest of the group.

You frustratedly blew a stream of air up to your forehead. The group released another chorus of suppressed laughter.

Your face drooped slightly.

“It's not funny, guys – he was murdered,” you muttered.

“Ahem,” John grumbled, lifting a brow before letting out an exasperated laugh. Emma snorted in response while the rest of the group followed suit and broke out in yet another fit of laughter.

“Yeah,” Jerome chimed, agreeing with John's grunt, “don't be so dramatic. If John can move on, so can Jean. And he has,” he hinted, tilting his beer in your direction before tipping it back and finishing it off.

“Hmm,” you winced, unwilling to delve into the same argument that the mention of your presentation always provoked. Jean's case was particularly dark in your opinion, and something you weren't exceptionally fond of recalling, even if you did relive it every time you looked into his eyes.

Cece parted her lips, about to beg for more information, when Marilyn turned toward the door and sighed with surprised satisfaction. The rest of the table mimicked her reaction while Cece leaned back in her seat, her eyes frantically jumping between yourself and the approaching figure.

You sat still until the nape of your neck was met with a gentle hand and the top of your head a soft kiss. You clutched at his forearm, looking at Cece through lowered lashes while she gushed with widened eyes.

“Jean,” Marilyn sang, placing her chin on your shoulder while she looked up at him, “this is Cece, a colleague of ________'s.” You could feel her eyes drift toward you and back. Cece reached out an eager hand, unable to keep from ogling his legendary figure.

“Jean,” he greeted, moving to the end of the table to shake her hand. His eyes quickly landed back on you.

“I'm going to get a beer. Do you need anything?”

He smiled out of the corner of his mouth, catching you off guard. You cleared your throat, shaking your head before sending him off to the bar with a smile.

Jerome chortled. You exhaled sharply, jutting your jaw to the side.

“Fuck's sake, you guys,” you rasped.

“Wow,” Cece gaped, watching Jean as he leaned against the bar, “nicely done.”

“Isn't he handsome?” Marilyn asked, earning a maniacal laugh from Grayson and Ruby.

“Mmm,” Cece groaned, causing the table to lay eyes on him again. He must've sensed the stares, the way he turned back toward you all, bashfully laughing at the shameless leering. You darted your eyes back to your drink with haste, giving your straw an uncomfortable pinch.

“Whoa,” Emma growled, watching as Jean kept his gaze locked on your figure. She looked back to you, a mischievous grin slowly forming on her face before she gave you a look that screamed 'I told you so'. You rolled your eyes.

“Mmmhmmm,” Louis piped up from the corner, earning a sneer from you before you finally broke your silence.

“I hate to shoot you guys down, but, honest to God, he's just grateful for a second shot. Who wouldn't be..?” John's face flattened, clearly remaining unconvinced. You rolled your eyes again. “I fucking petitioned for him – of course he's affectionate. I brought him back from the dead, in every sense of the phrase. If I hadn't done it,” you waved an annoyed hand,” someone else would've. Would've provoked the same behavior, and you damn well know it.”

Marilyn leaned back into Grayson, twisting herself to face you head on. Your face dropped, wincing in anticipation.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, “that man _loves_ you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you somehow managed to get through that (brava), feel free to leave some constructive criticism. I don't really know where this piece is going, so I'm always eager to receive some input.
> 
> \- I'm beginning to wonder if I should go to the effort of writing about each relationship from the reader's perspective (i.e. the reader living with Marilyn from Grayson's point of view, Emma's point of view with J.F.K. etc.). Thoughts? -
> 
> * Also, any errors I've made when it comes to tags, warnings, relationships, characters, etc., PLEASE POINT THEM OUT. Again, like I said, I have no idea how to work this site yet, and I'd hate to start off by offending/scarring anyone due to a significant, left-out tag or warning of some sort. *


End file.
